


Louis XIV

by leiascully



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Domestic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack drops in on one of the Doctor and River's more domestic moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Louis XIV

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: N/A  
> A/N: I imagine one of [these lovely beds](http://chateaudelille.blogspot.com/2011/06/louis-xiv-style-beds.html) being the object of their search, though I also like this [Louis XV](http://www.museumfurniture.com/louisXV/). Thanks to [Syddoc](http://syddoc.tumblr.com) and [Lizardbeth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/) for the prompts! I kind of combined them.  
> Disclaimer: _Doctor Who_ and all related characters are the property of Russell T. Davies, Stephen Moffat, and BBC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

There's a considerable amount of furniture stored away in the vaults, and River and the Doctor are utterly absorbed in their search for the perfect pieces. It takes the TARDIS flashing the lights on and off for the Doctor and River to notice that someone is knocking.

"Let them in!" the Doctor shouts. 

"And if it's someone with a vendetta against you?" River asks him, crossing her arms in a way that the Doctor finds quite pleasant to look at.

"That's what I keep you around for, dear," he says, tapping her on the nose. He pauses to think about it. "Also, I think they'd probably have to get in line."

"I should say so," River agrees with a smile.

They hear the vague muffled echoes of someone talking, and then the clatter of boots on the stairs. 

"Can't be anyone that bad if the TARDIS told him where we are," River says. 

"Him?" the Doctor says. 

"Well, it sounded like a man to me," River said. "Human, probably - he was speaking English. A lot of the other species just can't wrap their mouths around those THs"

"Everything sounds like English in the TARDIS," the Doctor grumbles. "I can't change the settings."

"I think I've been around long enough to know the difference between real, actual English and sounds-like-English," River tells him. "And he sounded American."

"Doctor?" someone calls, and the Doctor's eyes widen. Jack Harkness ducks through the open door. "There you are. And Professor Song. I have to say that's not entirely unexpected."

"Hello, Jack," River says warmly.

The Doctor looks between them. "The two of you know each other, of course you do. Why am I not surprised?"

"Every university student ought to have a fling with a dashing mercenary," River says. "It's practically a credit requirement. Although I suspect it doesn't usually end in the student tying up the mercenary and taking his gun as a souvenir."

"That was a perfectly good sonic blaster," Jack says in a flirtatious voice, although on reflection, the Doctor isn't certain whether Jack has any other voice. "It took me hours to get out of those knots."

"Isn't it lucky that I'd met that sailor?" River teases. "Otherwise, you'd still be tied up."

"By the third time or so I was getting the hang of it," Jack says. "Never did get that blaster back, though."

"You're free to try," River says. Her smile has edges to it.

"Oi!" the Doctor says. "This is my TARDIS, and my...whatever. I'll thank you not to flirt right in front of me."

"And which of us is your whatever?" River asks, her voice dangerously sweet. "Have I been downgraded, sweetie?"

The Doctor sighs. "'Course not."

"And here I was hoping that I was the whatever," Jack quips. "How quickly you replace us, Doctor."

"Agh," the Doctor moans. "There's a reason I never wanted the two of you in one room. Or one universe, really."

"I have the feeling I should thank you," River says to Jack, who smirks.

"I gave it my all," he says. "As often as I could."

"Again," the Doctor grinds out, "my TARDIS, my whatever, flirting, _please_ stop."

"Again with the whatever," River says, and the set of her shoulders promises some sort of retribution. The Doctor can only hope it's the enjoyable kind. 

"What kind of whatever?" Jack asks. "Because I don't recall this bothering you before. Or maybe it's just because we're not flirting with you. I could change that. So could Doctor Song here, I imagine."

"It bothered me less when you weren't some sort of godlike immortal," the Doctor says in slightly anguished tones. 

"Come now," Jack says, and there's that smirk again. The Doctor braces himself. "The only thing that changed was that now I can't die."

The Doctor sighs. "Yes, well, that isn't the only change in my situation."

"Oh, sweetie, you know better than that," River says. "However serious I may be about our relationship, I don't imagine that it's even possible to be entirely monogamous. It's all a bit too timey-wimey for that. I didn't even go to university until after Berlin, and you'd already promised. But if you want to catch up with Captain Harkness, I can go through the furniture on my own for a bit." She winks and the Doctor scowls, flustered.

"I don't just go off and _catch up_ with every old companion we run across," he says grumpily. "Which isn't to say that we were catching up in the first place, mind."

"Probably for the best," River teases. "Where would you find the time?"

"Monogamous?" Jack asks, hands on his hips. "Promised?"

The Doctor takes a very deep breath and lets it out as quietly as he can. "Captain Jack Harkness," he says, gesturing with a flourish, "may I present Doctor River Song: esteemed professor of archaeology, intergalactic person of interest, and my, er, wife." 

"Your wife," Jack says in disbelief. "Your _wife_."

"Oh, good, I haven't been downgraded," River says, amused. "I was afraid I'd have to tear time apart again."

"I'll just have to marry you in this timeline," the Doctor mutters.

"Again?" River asks and then winks. "Spoilers."

"Tomorrow?" the Doctor says, slipping into his own flirty voice. He can't quite help it. River brings it out in him. "Or shall we make it April 22nd? What do you think, dear, an anniversary every day or shall we stick with the day you killed me?"

"Which one?" River asks coyly.

"Fair point," the Doctor mutters. "The 22nd, then. A spring wedding. Preferably not in Utah."

"I can be ready in half an hour," River tells him. She bats her eyes in that way that makes the Doctor go all wibbly in the knees. 

"Well, the bedroom won't be, since we haven't gotten much accomplished on that front in the last few minutes," the Doctor points out. 

River brushes him off. "We'll use one of the others. My parents', if necessary. Surely you gave them a decent bed after the bunk beds. Bunk beds, sweetie, really."

"Bunk beds are cool," he says defensively.

"I will admit that the ladder offers some intriguing possiblities," River purrs.

"You bad, bad girl," he says in a voice he can't keep from being husky.

Jack clears his throat and they both look at him. "And to think I ever thought I stood a chance," he says wryly. "My congratulations, Doctor Song, and my deepest sympathies."

"Thank you, Captain," River says with a smile.

"If you need any help moving the furniture, I've rearranged a few bedrooms in my day," Jack suggests.

"I have no doubt of that," River tells him.

The Doctor wheels. "Why are you here? I mean, yes, hello, lovely to see you old chap and all that, but is there a reason?"

"Doctor," River says reproachfully.

Jack shrugs. "Your ship's a little distinctive. I was passing through and there she was. Thought I'd say hello." He grins. "Maybe catch up."

"I'm a married man," the Doctor mutters.

"I'm a fifty-first century guy," Jack says. "And so's your wife, relatively speaking. Generally we're a little more flexible about these things."

"Yes, but you know him," River says. "He tends to take a narrow interpretation of the bit about cherishing one's spouse to the exclusion of all others. Quite twentieth century."

Jack sighs theatrically. "I was afraid of that. Listen, I promise I won't feel at all cherished. Not even for a second."

"Now that's a difficult proposition," River murmurs.

The Doctor scowls. "Is there anyone still wondering why I put this day off?" he asks loudly.

River puts her hand on the Doctor's arm. "You needn't go all Mister Grumpy about it."

"Sorry," the Doctor apologizes. "Sorry. It's just I'm not very good with exes. Or even sort-of exes."

"We know," River and Jack chorus.

Jack flashes a charming grin. "Sorry myself, Doctor. I forget that not everyone appreciates a good old-fashioned booty call."

"One of his few flaws," River says, rubbing the Doctor's arm.

"So what's the furniture for?" Jack asks. 

The Doctor blushes. River glances at him and answers. "We decided it was about time we had a master bedroom."

"Plenty of other bedrooms," the Doctor mumbles. "Hardly see the need."

"Maybe you don't, but the TARDIS did," River reminds him. "It was her idea. And all the furniture is down here."

"Somewhere in this room there's a Louis XIV bed," the Doctor says. "He wasn't best pleased about it, I have to say. But he hardly needed so many."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "You stole a bed from the Sun King?"

"Might as well take from the best," the Doctor says, looking away. "He certainly knew his beds, that one."

"I should say so," River murmurs. "He spent enough time in them."

"Just means it's broken in," Jack says, and he and River smirk at each other while the Doctor blushes. 

"Still plenty of room for improvement," River says. 

"Have you gotten him to..." Jack begins, but the Doctor cuts him off.

"No, sorry, this isn't happening," he says, putting his hands over his ears. "I can't hear this. I can't have this."

Jack grins. "I think I've about worn out my welcome. No chance of getting that blaster back, Doctor Song?"

"Not one," she tells him, smiling.

"Pity," Jack says. "I'll show myself out."

"Until next time," the Doctor says, grudgingly sad. He does miss Jack, or at least the way things used to be with Jack and Rose and then Jack and Martha, but it's difficult for him to go back after he's made the effort to move on, and he's had to move on twice now. He isn't certain how he'd face a third time, especially knowing Jack's fate, and especially considering the amount of flirting he'd have to deal with from all angles. It's difficult enough dealing with his foreknowledge of River's future. He looks over and has to close his eyes at the beauty of the strength of her arms her as she moves the spare furniture. 

"All right, sweetie?" she asks, looking up. Her curls tumble around her face and he wants to push his hands into them and just hold her close.

"Fine, yeah," he tells her. "King of okay, remember, that's me."

"It's just that you've got that look on your face," she says. "That 'I am the Doctor and I carry the weight of all worlds' look. Should I ask what happens to Jack?"

"Hmm," the Doctor says noncommittally.

"I presume he lives an exceptionally long and happy life," River continues. "As so many of your companions do."

The Doctor winces. "He does. In a manner of speaking."

"Glad to hear it," River says lightly. "Now. Rather than endangering my own future by asking any stupid questions, shall we go back to planning our honeymoon?"

"Yes, dear," he says, relieved. Every moment is sweet heartbreak with her; he will put aside the ache and concentrate on the joy of it. Sharing a life with River is never anything less than exhilarating, even when they're just decorating. He can only imagine how exciting things are going to get once they've found the bed. It seems unlikely that they'll actually get it back to the room before all hell in high heels breaks loose, but he's growing used to that. It's quite pleasant, really. 

River pauses in the corner of the room and the Doctor wanders over to her. "Problem?"

"No problem at all," she says. He follows her gaze and swallows hard. She's looking at his cot, her fingers caressing the edge of it. She reaches up to touch the mobile, setting the stars spinning, and then she looks at him. Her eyes are exceptionally bright. He thinks he can see stars in them, as hypnotic as the swaying mobile. 

"River?" he asks.

She smiles.


End file.
